THREE NINETEEN

by SANDEFUR

3-5-06/late Sunday night.

The entire Girardi family plus Helen's father, Marcus Brodie, are in the living room watching the news…

"Tragedy struck Arcadia earlier today when an elusive assailant fired upon the Islamic Center of Arcadia with a fifty caliber machine gun from the rooftop of a nearby warehouse. The grounds of the center were filled with hundreds of people attending an outdoor fund raiser for the Interfaith Council, which was ironically labeled: A Taste Of The Middle East. At approximately two p.m., gunfire erupted amongst the patrons of the numerous food booths set up on the grounds of the Islamic Center. Preliminary reports indicate 38 dead, and 34 wounded, as well as dozens of minor injuries occurring during the mad scramble to escape the gunfire…"

Helen says, "I can't watch any more of this. It's just too much."

Helen turns and heads for the back door.

Joan says, "I agree. I'll be with Mom."

Joan exits too, but the four grim-faced men continue to watch.

"Local police are on the scene handling crowd control, but no detectives or high officials of the Arcadia Police are present. Full control of the investigation has been assumed by the F.B.I., and there are persistent, but unconfirmed reports of officials from Homeland Security being present, looking for any foreign terrorism connection. When asked why the Arcadia Police had been isolated from this investigation, an unnamed F.B.I. source replied, 'The locals have had a year to crack this case, and they have dropped the ball. Now it's our turn.' End quote. Clearly, this is a slap at Chief Will Girardi, who in December, all but announced the end of the anti-religion threat."

Kevin blurts out, "That's not true! Dad said the investigation was on-going, and for all potential targets to remain on alert."

Marcus responds, "Kev, you're in the media. You know how every story has to be hyped to gain maximum public interest."

"I guess I'm use to a higher standard at the Herald. Luke, I'm sorry the story on the Polonsky's trust in your innocence will be ignored because of the tidal wave of coverage of this story."

"That's okay, Kev. Rebecca did a great job showing how Grace's family is rooting for me."

Marcus says, "Yes, it's a shame that story won't be upper most in the minds of the jury pool tomorrow."

Will responds, "Actually, Luke's trial won't be starting tomorrow."

Marcus asks, "A new development, Will? Something other than the evidence Joan collected?"

"There's an announcement about to be made at city hall…wait, this is it."

A picture of Ryan Hunter, along with the rest of the city council comes on the screen. Rabbi Polonsky, one of the council, wears a bandage on his forehead…

"We now go live to the city council chambers where Council President Ryan Hunter is issuing a statement."

Ryan confidently looks into the camera. "Citizens of Arcadia, this is our darkest hour. There are no words to adequately express the loss and the pain we are all experiencing. The city of Arcadia pledges its' full support to all those who are suffering, and to the law enforcement officials who are investigating this senseless tragedy. By order of the city council, all flags will be flown at half staff for the rest of the year. In addition, all city and county offices, except for emergency services, will be closed for the next three days. This includes all public schools. During this time we will mourn, and bury our dead. Then we will catch the sick scum who did this, and make them pay! I urge everyone to remain calm, and please, leave the law in official hands. Do not act on your own. This horrifying crime must not, will not go unanswered. You have my word, there will be full and swift justice. Thank you."

The program goes back to the news desk. "We will continue with our coverage after these messages…"

Marcus comments, "If vigilante justice wasn't in anyone's mind before that statement, it is now."

Kevin responds, "Ryan probably didn't realize how his words might affect some people."

Will remarks, "He just waved a red flag in front of every crackpot and hothead within a hundred miles."

Luke asks, "Not to sound self-absorbed, but does this mean my trial won't be starting until Thursday?"

Marcus replies, "That's right boyo, and that will give us time to use Joan's new evidence in shaping our trial strategy."

Luke asks, "Grandpa, is there any chance they will simply drop the charges?"

"Unlikely. The D.A. has too much invested in the case to simply give up, but no doubt about it, Joan has dealt a serious blow to her case."

Kevin says, "For once, I'm grateful Joan has followed through on one of her crazy ideas."

X X X X X

Meanwhile, in the Girardi backyard, Joan and Helen sit on the patio staring up at the stars. In the background, there is an occasional odd noise--a sort of a 'thunk'.

Joan says, "Ryan Hunter is behind this."

"I know. I just don't understand why God didn't stop it. Why didn't he warn us in time?"

"I don't know. I...what is that sound?"

"John Hunter practicing archery."

Drawn by some instinct, Helen and Joan walk to the backyard fence and peer over into the well-lit yard next door. There are three targets set up with numerous arrows protruding from the center of each target. Dr. John Hunter draws back his bow and shoots another bullseye.

Joan asks, "Does that help?"

"With the stress? Usually, but nothing can help on a day like this."

Helen asks, "We were just asking each other, how could God allow this?"

Dr. Hunter replies, "Maybe he had no choice. Remember, even God has to obey the rules of God. Free will is one of the rules, and God is limited in his ability to circumvent it."

Helen says, "But what about us? If we had been warned, maybe we could have done something. Although, for three consecutive nights I have had a dream..."

"The sound of gunfire and of people screaming?"

"John, you too?"

Joan says, "Wait, was that accompanied by a brillant flash of white light?"

Helen replies, "Yes! When did you have that dream?"

"Remember the day of Rocky's funeral when you found me on the chapel floor? God showed me a vision of what was to come, but it was more than what I could take in."

"That's why you were murmuring, 'Hints are good enough'. But, that was two years ago. Was there no way to stop this?"

Dr. Hunter says, "I've been at this longer than either of you, and in the past when I've asked that question, the answer has always been that it was beyond my ability to change."

Joan asks, "So if one or more of us had been sent into action...?"

"We would have and failed, and probably been killed in the process."

Helen asks, ""What do we do now?"

Dr. Hunter replies, "We continue to trust God. No matter how hard the circumstances get, we have to have faith."

Helen responds, "That's asking a lot after a day like today."

Joan says, "No, it isn't. The alternative is to follow Ryan's path. To judge God a failure, and live our lives accordingly. That's not a life I care to live."

Helen nods. "Nor I."

Dr. Hunter quotes, "'And where would we go lord? You have the words of life'."

X X X X X

3-6-06/Monday midday.

Joan steps off a bus and begins walking towards an office building. In the nearby plaza she notices a man alone behind a chessboard. She trots towards Chessmaster God...

"I've been looking for you. I tried the park looking for the Little Girl, the closed school looking for Cute Boy or Goth Kid, and I even rode the bus hoping I'd see some version of you at one of the bus stops."

Chessmaster God remains silent, his back turned to Joan. She walks around to see his face and is shocked to see him weeping.

"You're...crying. Why?"

"There are times Joan when I regret creating humanity. There are moments when I just want to take my arm and sweep every piece from the board."

Joan glances at the chessboard and trembles. She whispers, "You wouldn't."

"Not...today."

Joan sits opposite Chessmaster God and notices three pieces on her side have been toppled--a knight, a bishop, and the queen.

"Are these three knocked over pieces symbolic?"

"John Hunter's apparaisal of why I didn't send in 'my troops' was accurate. The outcome would have been unchanged, and none of you would have survived."

"You should have let me kill Ryan. Then none of this would have happened."

Chessmaster God tiredly shrugs. "Fine, go kill him. I'll give you absolution."

Joan gasps. She briefly stares at Chessmaster God in disbelief. "You...you don't mean that."

"Why not? If you are so certain of your course of action, and of the ripples it will cause, then do it. Clearly, since you feel so free to question my leadership, you want to act on your own."

"No, no, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. Please?"

Chessmaster God sighs and restores the three chess pieces to their upright positions. "Even God can have a bad day. I know this struggle has been hard for you Joan, and I regret to say, things will get worse before they get better. Ryan's turn to do his damndest has come, and I can not deny him it. Remember, he has never been alone in this war, and removing him from the board would not negate the other forces aligned against you."

Chessmaster God reaches down and flicks away the pawn furthest to his left.

Joan asks, "Strategy would change, but the game would go on?"

"And the results could be far worse than you can imagine."

"So what do I do now?"

"Trust me Joan. It's all I ever ask."

Chessmaster God rises and slowly, sadly walks away. As he leaves, Joan retrieves the pawn from the ground. On the bottom of the piece, she notices a name...

"Ryan."

Intrigued, Joan looks at the bottom of the restored knight and sees the name, JOHN. On the bottom of the bishop, HELEN, And on the bottom of the queen, JOAN.

"Huh, look who's the pawn and who is the queen. Do your damndest little pawn. In the end, the queen wins."

X X X X X

Only minutes later, Joan enters the law office of Tom Murphy. There she finds Mr. Murphy and her grandfather reviewing the video tape she made of Mrs. Brown recanting her earlier testimony.

"Sorry I'm late. I, uh, ran into someone I knew outside."

Murphy says, "That's alright, Joan. It has given us the time to review this extraordinary tape you made. This completely destroys an important part of the prosecutor's case, and if we can get it admitted into evidence, it becomes reasonable doubt as to Luke's guilt."

Marcus chuckles. "Didn't I tell you my granddaughter was going to make a heck of a lawyer some day?"

Murphy responds, "Indeed. But Joan, how did you manage to get this tape when even the police weren't able to find Mrs. Brown?"

"I had help. One of the girls I play soccer with is a distant relative of Marie Brown. She helped me find her cousin, and to persuade her to do the right thing."

"Well, the right thing would have been for her to testify in court and name names."

"Mrs. Brown only agreed to make the tape on two conditions. One, she wouldn't have to appear in court, and two, she would never have to name the person who compelled her to lie in the first place. That's why she left the area after making the tape. She's scared."

"So you know who is behind all of this?"

"No offense Mr. Murphy, but you and I don't share attorney/client priviledge. So anything I may or not know will remain unspoken."

Marcus slaps his knee in delight. "Hah! A natural born lawyer."

Murphy says, "But Joan, don't you see if we had a name and a face to throw suspicion towards, it would help your brother?"

"Even if you didn't believe it, couldn't prove it, and knew no one else would believe it?"

"That's quite a list of 'ifs'. Are you sure this link can't be proved? Once we get a person on the witness stand, we can cast all kinds of doubt into a jury's minds."

"Okay, I'll let you decide, but only if this is priviledged information."

"Fine. Hand me a dollar and I'm officially your lawyer."

Joan hands over a dollar, and Tom Murphy hands it to Marcus.

"Mr. Brodie, I'm formally hiring you as a consultant, and anything you hear in that capacity comes under attorney/client priviledge."

Marcus smiles. "And I'm giving a dollar to Joan for no other reason than I'm her grandpa and can. Now that the legalities are taken care of, spill it Joanie. Who is this villain?"

"Marie Brown confessed to me that months ago she entered into a conspiracy to do my family harm. She assumed the target was my Dad, but it turned out to be Luke. Her co-conspirator was a man I already knew to be a 'viilain', as Grandpa puts it. That man is Ryan Hunter."

For several beats, both men just stare at Joan.

Tom Murphy awkwardly clears his throat. "Ryan Hunter? Newspaper publisher, city council president, the guy I was going to support for mayor, that Ryan Hunter?"

Marcus adds, "The charming fellow I met on my last visit, the man I saw on TV last night, that Ryan Hunter?"

"Yes to all. So you can see the problem in pointing a finger in that direction?"

Murphy nods. "No one would believe it. Not even if Mrs. Brown showed up and confirmed the charge on the witness stand. We're better off sticking with the anonymous enemy approach."

Marcus asks, "Joanie, why would a man like Ryan Hunter do a thing like this? What possible grudge could he have against this family?"

"Grandpa, it's a long, complicated story. Ryan is an evil man who has been involved in numerous criminal activities. He knows I'm aware of this, and like a cat with a mouse, he's determined to play his sick game before he destroys us all. Frankly Grandpa, I'm not sure you're safe as long as you remain in Arcadia."

Marcus states, "No one is scaring me away while my family is in danger."

"Even if it involves machine gun bullets piercing the walls of our house?"

"Joanie, what are you saying?"

"That Ryan Hunter is capable of anything. There's good reason for Marie Brown to be running for her very life. Ryan has been playing his little game for nearly a year, and now he's ready to bring it all to an end. I'm glad I had the chance to tell the two of you this. If I go missing, or my body turns up in an alley somewhere, you'll know who to suspect."

"My God, Joanie--if all of this is true, we have to get you out of this town."

"No Grandpa, it's too late to run. I have to see this through to the bitter end."

X X X X X

At that moment in the Internal Affairs department of the Arcadia police, Lt. Chuck Winters is at his desk dealing with paperwork. Chuck is a man happy with his lot in life. His earlier career in the police had been a difficult stretch of time for him. By his own admission, Chuck had been at best a mediocre cop. That is until he transferred to Internal Affairs. There, Chuck found his niche. By nature an obsessive rule follower, I.A. was a perfect fit for Chuck. He steadily rose in the department, and when Lucy Preston was promoted to Under-sheriff, promotion for Chuck naturally followed. There is a knock at the door, and through the glass, Chuck recognizes an old friend, Barry 'The Bear' Caldwell. Chuck smiles and waves him in...

The Bear rolls in and asks, "Chuck, you got a minute?"

"For you Bear, always. In fact, I'm probably the least busy cop in Arcadia today. Everyone is running around investigating yesterday's massacre, even though the feds have ordered hands-off. For the first time in my career, I'm looking the other way."

"I can understand that. If I still carried a badge, I'd be out there doing the same."

"I'm tempted to do that too, but being the head of I.A., I'm forbidden from participating in all active investigations. Say, I was planning on Marvin's for lunch. Care to join me?"

"Uh Chuck, this isn't a social call."

"So you're here in your capacity as the head of the property room?"

"We just completed our monthly inventory. Remember the 40,000 dollars seized in that drug bust last month?"

"I don't like the sound of this. It's missing?"

"All of it."

"I assume there's been no change in the rules? Only the eight certified property clerks are allowed into the storeroom?"

"All ex-cops who have signed waivers in matters of financial records and searches of themselves and homes. Who also take quarterly lie detector test. Of course, there is the exception rule."

Chuck frowns and makes a tsk-tsk sound. "That's never been an official rule."

"Maybe, but I've worked for four police chiefs and two under-sheriffs, and they have always had free access to the property storeroom. The head-man exception."

"Are you saying Chief Girardi has been in the property room since the 40 grand was logged in?"

"On February 21st, Will Girardi and former Under-sheriff Roebuck entered the property room for the expressed purpose of examining the revolver used in the Grace Polk shooting. They were there about ten minutes."

"There are surveillance cameras in the property room. I'll need the tape from the 21st."

The Bear reaches into the satchel attached to the back of his wheelchair and produces a videotape. "Way ahead of you."

Chuck pops the videotape into a VCR. Instantly, a black and white image of Will Girardi and Roy Roebuck appears. They are standing next to an evidence box and are checking numbers on a list. Will opens the box and Roebuck steps back, disappearing from view.

Chuck asks, "What the hell? Where did Roebuck go?"

"The property room is huge--almost a small warehouse, and the surveillance cameras only cover about 80 percent of the room."

"I didn't know that."

"Not many do. I've submitted a request for increased surveillance equipment to every new department head we've had, but you know what the budget is like."

"So both Girardi and Roebuck would know about the gap in the security coverage?"

"They were amongst the few who did."

"And where exactly was the missing money kept?"

The Bear points to the video image. "On a shelf to the right of where the Chief is standing."

"The same spot where Roebuck disappears from view."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"The Chief's back is turned. Roebuck could have stolen the money without him noticing."

"What are you going to do, Chuck?"

"Roebuck is back with the county cops, so I'll have to go through Sheriff Rakowski. First we will have to check bank records, and then probably get a search warrant for his home."

The Bear shakes his head in disbelief. "Roy Roebuck. It dosn't seem possible."

"I know. I worked for the man in I.A. for years, but that's the toughest part of my job. Sometimes you have to arrest friends."

X X X X X

Meanwhile, Lt. Toni Chadwick and Captain Emile Hoytt, head of the uniform division, are meeting in Will's office.

Hoytt says, "The feds are making full use of our uniformed guys. They've established a two block buffer zone around the Islamic Center. Absolutely no access without their say so. Mostly our guys are keeping back the curious, and trying to control the press. I heard there are over 200 reporters from all over the world covering this story. They even hired helicopters to buzz the area, despite warnings from the FAA."

Will responds, "Tell your guys to go easy on the press. This town had had enough bad publicity to last it a century."

Toni says, "Meanwhile, we have dozens of detectives who are eager to jump into the investigation. Why are the feds being so heavy-handed? This is our case."

Will replies, "Not according to Homeland Security and the Justice Department. This case is having international reprecussions. There are riots all across the middle-east, and the American flag is being burned in every major capital around the world."

Hoytt says, "One of the agents from Homeland Security confided they are expecting retaliation from any number of muslim extremists groups."

Toni bristles, "That's insane. Most of the victims were visitors. Non-muslims."

Hoytt shrugs. "But the Islamic Center contains a mosque and a religious school. That alone is enough to stir rage, even if none of the victims had been muslim. In case you hadn't noticed, the enemy we fight isn't known for their rationality."

Toni adds, "Apparently neither is the federal government. The way they stormed in here and tried to seize our records, it was as if we were the enemy."

Will remarks, "I heard you gave them a piece of your mind."

"I had a hundred angry cops backing me up. All the feds got were copies of our files, and a lot of nasty attitude from everyone."

Hoytt says, "I did hear a rumor from one of the F.B.I. guys on why they're treating the A.P.D. like we were the Keystone Kops."

Will responds, "Feel free to share, Captain."

"It seems a certain ex top cop from Arcadia has been telling her bosses at the Justice Department that the Arcadia Police are equal parts incompetence and corruption."

Toni reracts, "Lucy Preston has been bad mouthing us to the feds? That bitch! Really Will, you've got to learn to end your affairs on better terms."

"For the last time, I never had an affair with Lucy Preston! In fact, that's why she's so vindictive--because I resisted her charms."

Toni smiles. "Relax Will, I was only kidding. But in the meantime, what do I tell our detectives? Most of us know at least one person who was in that crowd yesterday."

"Officially, we can't get involved in this new case. We only have the preliminary report anyway. Captain, the machine gun was stolen?"

Hoytt nods. "From a national guard facility, along with other weapons and explosives, back in June. And since it happened in Huntington, over a hundred miles away, it was only a blip on our radar."

Toni asks, "I heard the gun jammed?"

Hoytt replies, "Yes, and very early on. I used the .50 caliber in 'Nam, and it almost never jams, but this one was locked up tight. A good thing too. Our missing gunman had enough ammo to kill hundreds."

Toni says, "At least we can be grateful for that."

Will adds, "That and the fact we have all of our records from the previous crimes. If we're forbidden to touch this new case, then we will re-examine the old ones with a fine toothed comb. Assemble your task force, Lieutenant. This is our top priority."

X X X X X

3-7-06/early Tuesday morning.

A light fog on a crisp morning causes Luke to shiver slightly as he waits in front of his house. A black Ford sedan pulls up in front of the Girardi residence. Rabbi Aaron Polonsky opens the paasenger door and Luke gets in. They immediately pull away.

"Good morning, Rabbi. How are you today?"

Polonsky briefly touches the bandage on his forehead. "Do you mean in general, or after the effects of Sunday's tragedy?"

"Well, both."

"Physically I am well. My minor buises and cuts caused by being bumped and stepped on by the panicking crowd are healing quickly. Mentally and emotionally, I can't ever imagine recovering from the horror of that day."

"Pardon me for suggesting this..."

"A shrink? Yes, there have been counselors made available to all those who were there, and I've already availed myself of their services. It helps, but truly, only time will heal this wound. In the meantime, life goes on, and we must do our best to meet each new challenge."

"Is that why you wanted to meet this morning? To face one of life's challenges?"

"In a way. I know this has been a difficult time for you, Luke. Not just the impending trial, but the cruel separation from Grace."

"The two mile limit on this rotten ankle monitor. By the way, where ever we are going, you do remember the limit?"

"Of course. I measured carefully, and we will be exactly one point seven miles from your home. Luke, the days ahead will be difficult, and I'm not referring to the trial. I have faith you will be acquitted."

"Thank you again sir for that newspaper article."

Polonsky shrugs. "For all the good it did. I'm afraid no one will remember it amongst the flood of lurid headlines about this latest tragedy. But no, what I was saying is that you will be a father in about six months. We need to discuss this impending event."

"Rabbi, I love Grace, and I pledge to be there for her and our child for the rest of my life."

"A noble gesture, but you are a very young man, Luke. It's always possible Grace could remain in this coma for years, possibly decades. Time might change your mind. You might grow tired of waiting for the resurrection of the lover from your youth, and seek a vibrant woman who can return your affections."

"I would never..."

"Stop. No matter how intensely you feel today, you know you can't guarantee the future. And so, we must discuss certain legal realities. Grace will turn 18 in a few days, but as long as her coma lasts, we as her parents remain in control of her life. This will continue until she recovers, or until Sarah and I pass from this mortal scene. At which time, a trust fund administered by my nephew will see to her needs."

"And the baby?"

"You will still be a minor when the child is born, and further, you will be starting your college years in the fall. As Grace's parents, the custody of the child will naturally fall to us. However, we are middle-aged and not well suited to raise another child to full maturity. We want you involved in all aspects of the child's upbringing, so we propose that after you graduate college, and have started a career, Sarah and I will sign fuul custody over to you."

"That sounds like a wise course of action."

"Of course this is all dependent on when Grace wakes up. There is, however, one proviso. We insist the child be raised Jewish. If it is a boy, there will be a circumcision."

"I have a strong hunch it will be a girl, and I certainly want her to be familiar with her heritage. I have no objection to her being raised Jewish, as long as it is understood that the choice of religions will always be hers."

"That...is acceptable. And we are here."

Luke looks about at the parking lot where Rabbi Polonsky has stopped.

"And where exactly is here?"

"The Oakview extended care facility."

"A nursing home?"

"The best in the county, and close to both of our houses. Grace was moved here last night."

"You mean, I'm going to see Grace?"

"If you want to."

Luke joyously says, "If I want to!"

Luke leaves the car and begins running for the entrance. A smiling Rabbi Polonsky follows...

"At least wait for me."

X X X X X

Meanwhile, Chuck Winters is again in his offfice trying to catch up on paperwork. There is a knock on the door, and through the glass panel, Chuck recognizes a blonde woman of about forty. Chuck waves her in...

"Marie? Marie Brown. It's been years. I haven't seen you since the days when Gabe Fellowes was D.A."

Marie responds, "Good to see you again, Chuck. How have you been?"

"Can't complain. Got a promotion."

"I heard. A lieutenant now, and the head of Internal Affairs. Congratulations. I'm glad to see one of the good guys get ahead."

"Thanks. So what brings you by, Marie? The last I heard, you were testifying in the Grace Polk case."

"That's why I'm here. I need to report a case of witness tampering."

"Marie, you of all people should know this is a matter to report ot the D.A.'s office."

"Even when it involves two cops?"

Chuck Winters sinks into his office chair and sighs. "Tell me all about it."

X X X X X

Back at the Oakview nursing home, Luke and Rabbi Polonsky walk down a long corridor and stop at a closed door. Polonsky puts a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"I'll let you have your privacy, but I want to prepare you since this is your first visit. Grace is off the respirator, which the doctors say is a good sign. However, there is a feeding tube and wires to several monitors."

"Is she at all responsive?"

"Not yet, but we are doing all we can to keep her mind stimulated. We read to her, talk to her and play her favorite music. There is a dispute over whether this does any good, but we feel it helps."

"I agree. The greater the stimulation, the better. May I go in now?"

"Of course. I'll be waiting in the lounge."

As Rabbi Polonsky walks away, Luke steels himself and enters. The room is pleasant, slightly darkened, and music is playing softly. Luke recognizes an African drumbeat that is one of Grace's favorites.

"Hello Grace."

Luke pauses, automatically giving Grace a chance to respond.

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to see you before this. I've missed you so much. I love you Grace, and I'll never accept that you are gone from me. You might as well make up your mind to wake up, because we are going to have a life together."

Luke pauses to brush a strand of hair from Grace's face.

"God, you're so pale. Are you getting enough sun?"

Luke goes to the window and adjusts the blinds so that full sunlight fills the room. For a moment he stares at her in the brighter light and sighs. Luke moves back to Grace's side and gently places his fingertips on her abdomen.

"The baby is still growing. The doctor's report I heard is that she's doing fine. I wish we had more time to talk about her future. I'm so unsure of how you wanted to guide her life. Did you have a name in mind? I always liked Anne--it was my grandmother's name."

Luke's eyes begin to well-up, and he can no longer hold back the tears.

"Please Grace, come back to me. I-I can't face the future without you."

Luke wipes away his tears and fumbles in the pocket of his jacket. He removes an iPod, selects a song and places the earbuds in Grace's ears. Faintly, Luke hears the music...

"Light the candles, we're gonna have a party..."

Luke kneels beside Grace's bed, makes the sign of the cross, and begins to pray.

X X X X X

3-8-06/late Wednesday night.

The evening news ends and Roy Roebuck clicks off his TV. Yawning hugely, he heads for the bedroom, but pauses at the sound of the doorbell. He answers the door and finds there Lt. Chuck Winters, Sheriff Mike Rakowski, and four uniformed offficers.

"Chuck? Sheriff? A little late for a social call."

Rakowski responds, "Roy, I'm sorry about this, but I had no choice."

Chuck says, "Roy, we have a warrant to search your apartment."

Chuck hands over a court document that Roebuck briefly glances through.

"All legal and above board. Help yourselves, gentlemen. Care to clue me in as to what you're looking for?"

Chuck replies, "You'd make things go a lot easier for yourself if you would just co-operate."

"Gladly, if I knew what was going on."

Rakowski says, "They think you stole some money from the police property room."

"The only time I've been in that room since I left my old job was in February when Chief Girardi and I checked on evidence in the Grace Polk case. Surely the security cameras show I didn't take a dime."

Chuck responds, "As the former Under-sheriff, you should know better."

"Oh, the gaps in the security coverage that The Bear reported. I had forgotten about that."

"So you say."

Rakowski says, "Roy, I've always respected you as the most honest cop I know, but if you've got something to say, it would be better if you said it now. Before anything is found in this search."

"You too, Mike? Why exactly am I under suspicion? Apart from the coincidence of my visit and the timing of the missing money. By the way, exactly how much went missing?"

Chuck replies, "Forty grand. Half has already been recovered. That leaves..."

"Twenty thousand. Yeah, I can do the math. You say half of the money is accounted for? From whom?"

Chuck replies, "You can feign ignorance as much as you like, but we already know the truth."

A genuine look of confusion crosses Roebuck's face, but he realizes there is nothing he can say in the situation. Moments later, one of the uniformed cops who is searching the balcony calls out...

"Found something!"

Everyone heads to the scene as the uniformed cop digs in a flower box at the far edge of the balcony.

Chuck orders, "Get pictures of this."

Another cop begins recording as the first cop unearths a small package heavily wrapped in plastic. The package is opened, revealing a large sum of cash.

Chuck says, "Looks like 20 thousand to me. Roy Roebuck, you are under arrest for grand theft and conspiracy to obstruct justice."

"Conspiracy? What are you talking about?"

Rakowski advises, "Roy, it's time to go silent. Lieutenant, read him his rights."

"You have the right to remain silent..."

X X X X X

3-9-06/Thursday morning.

At Hogan County Superior Court, Luke, Tom Murphy and Marcus Brodie sit at the defense table while the rest of the Girardis sit directly behind them. Judge Patricia Claymore enters...

A baliff calls out, "All rise. Superior Court of Hogan County is now in session, the honorable Patricia Claymore presiding."

Claynore says, "Be seated. We are hearing today case 0-6-1-4-3-9, the people versus Lucas Dwight Girardi. Mr. Girardi, you are charged with attempted murder, illegal discharge of a firearm and posession of a controlled sustance, and have entered a plea of not guilty. Correct?"

Tom Murphy rises. "Yes your honor. Thomas Murphy for the defense, and my client pleads not guilty. The defense stands ready."

D.A. Melanie Drake stands. "Melanie Drake for the prosecution. Also ready, your honor."

"Very well, before we begin jury selection, are there any motions?"

Drake replies, "The prosecution submits it's evidence list."

The clerk of the court takes the list from Drake and hands it to the Judge.

"Any challenges, Mr. Murphy?"

"Yes your honor. We submit a challenge to item number twelve, a videotaped interview with Mrs. Marie Brown. We wish to submit into evidence a new videotape in which Mrs. Brown recants her original statement."

"Any objections, Ms Drake?"

"None your honor."

"Really? Well if you're not curious, I am. Mr. Murphy, if you have a recanting of a witness' testimony, why not simply move to have that evidence removed? Why have the new tape entered as evidence?"

"Because, your honor, the new statement indicates an on-going conspiracy to frame my client."

"Indeed? And you're willing to allow this into evidence, Ms Drake?"

"Again, your honor, no objection."

Marcus leans over and whispers into Murphy's ear, "Something's wrong. She should be fighting this."

Murphy whispers back, "I know. I can't figure it out."

Claymore says, "I need to know more. Is Marie Brown available for questioning?"

Drake replies, "Mrs. Brown went into hiding, and the police were unsuccessful in finding her."

Claymore asks, "Then how did you get the new statement, Mr. Murphy?"

"Your honor, the defendant's sister, Joan Girardi, diligently searched the area, and was able to find Mrs. Brown in a remote mountain cabin. Miss Girardi persuaded Mrs. Brown to make a new tape, this time telling the truth."

"Miss Girardi, you look familiar. Have we met?"

Marcus indicates for Joan to rise. She complies. "Yes your honor, in a mock trial at Arcadia High last year."

"Oh yes, now I recall. Tell me Miss Girardi, why did you videotape Mrs. Brown instead of persuading her to testify in person?"

"If you watch the videotape, your honor, you will hear Mrs. Brown explain. She was too scared to appear in court. She is on the run from the man she conspired with to frame my brother."

"Very well, let's have the tape displayed."

A baliff collects the videotape and places it in a VCR. A moment later, Marie Brown appears on the screen...

"My name is Marie Adele Brown, and today is Saturday, March fourth. On January 20th, I gave a statement to the Arcadia Police in which I claimed Luke Girardi signed out of storage at the Arcadia Gun Club a .38 caliber revolver early in the evening of January 18th. This is completely untrue. Luke was not there that evening, and I forged his signature in the logbook. I did this as part of a conspiracy with a powerful and very dangerous enemy of Police Chief Will Girardi. I knew for months in advance that I would be participating in a conspiracy against Chief Girardi, but I didn't realize it was his family who was the true target. Out of fear for my life, I held my tongue, but I can keep silent no longer. I fully recant my first statement, and I apologize for the pain and suffering I have caused the Girardi family."

The tape stops, and the entire court sits stunned for several moments.

Claymore says, "Ms Drake, this tape strikes a devastating blow to your case. Are you sure you are willing to let this in as evidence? Don't you at least want a delay so you can try to locate Marie Brown?"

"No your honor. The prosecution is fully prepared to proceed with this tape in evidence."

"Very well. Without objection, this tape may be entered into evidence. Are there any other motions?"

For a moment, smiles and thumbs-up are exchanged on the defense side. This ends when Lt. Chuck Winters, two uniformed cops and Marie Brown enter the courtroom. While the court stirs with excitement, Ryan Hunter slips into the courtroom and takes a seat in the back.

Claymore says, "Lt. Winters, what is the meaning of this disturbance?"

"I apologize, your honor, but I asked the D.A. for co-operation in establishing a case of witness tampering."

"I assume this involves the multiple versions of this woman's testimony. Mr. Murphy, did you know anything about this?"

"No your honor. The last I heard, this witness could not be found. I have no explanation."

"Ms Drake, can you explain?"

"Your honor, Internal Affairs asked my co-operation in securing evidence of witness tampering. The new tape we have seen is a result of pressure tactics and attempted bribery of this witness."

"Alright, I want to get to the bottom of this. Mrs. Brown, take the witness stand."

Marie Brown complies with the judge's order, but when the court clerk steps forward with a bible, Claymore waves him off.

"This isn't evidence in this trial. I just want to know what is going on. Mrs. Brown, although you are not under oath, if you lie in my courtroom, you will find out just how long a contempt of court citation can be stretched. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes your honor. My story is a simple one. On the evning of February 21st, Polic Chief Girardi and a sheriff's deputy named Roebuck, showed up at my apartment. They tried to persuade me to recant my original statement by appealing to my sense of mercy. When I refused, they offered me money--40,00 dollars. Half to be paid the next night, and the rest to be paid when Luke Girardi was acquitted. I was to record a statement that matched the second tape I made. They swore they would arrange it so no charges could be brought against me. I refused again, and they then threatened to arrest me on trumped-up drug charges. Terrified, I agreed to take the money and do what they wanted. As soon as they left, I packed a bag and got out of town. I thought I was safe until Joan Girardi showed up at a cabin where I was hiding. She duped a young cousin of mine into aiding in helping to find me. While we were alone, Miss Girardi handed me an envelope containing 20,00 dollars, and a message from her father: Co-operate or else."

Tom Murphy calls out, "Objection, your honor."

Claymore responds, "You can't object Mr. Murphy. This isn't part of this trial. Please continue, Mrs. brown."

"After the Girardi girl left with the bogus tape, I knew I couldn't let it stand. So I went along only until I was able to get to Internal Affairs."

Chuck Winters adds, "Yes your honor, Mrs. Brown returned to us an envelope filled with 20,000 dollars. Joan Girardi's fingerprints are on the envelope, and the note is on Chief Girardi's official stationary in his hand writing. The money itself was stolen from the police evidence room, and Girardi and Roebuck are suspects in the theft of that cash. In fact, the remaining 20,000 dollars was found hidden in Deputy Roebuck's home last night."

Claymore nods. "I see. Then if you are done wasting this court's time..."

"Yes your honor." Chuck replies before going to Will. "I'll need your gun, Chief."

Will opens his jacket and Chuck confiscates the pistol. He then puts handcuffs on Will--his hands in front of him...

"William Girardi, you are under arrest for conspiracy to obstruct justice, and as an accomplice to grand theft."

Chuck then steps over to Joan and also handcuffs her with her hands in front of her...

"Joan Girardi, I arrest you as an accomplice to conspiracy to obstruct justice."

Kevin and Helen crowd close to the scene. Kevin states, "This is insane! You're making a huge mistake."

Helen cries, "Oh Will, what should I do?"

"Don't worry Helen, none of this is true."

The uniformed cops begin escorting father and daughter from the courtroom while Chuck reads them their rights. At the door, Joan pauses for just a moment to take in the smug smile on Ryan's face.

"Enjoy it while you can, pawn. The game isn't over."

X X X X X

That evening in the Hogan County jail, an elderly trustee wheels a cart down a corridor of the women's wing. A deputy follows along.

The Trustee calls out, "Dinner!"

Joan goes to the door and takes the tray through the open slot. She sniffs the meal and makes a face.

The Trustee cackles, "You're in luck, kid. Franks and beans--as good as it gets around here."

Joan sighs. "Maybe breakfast will be better?"

Trustee replies, "Oatmeal, kid. Every damn day, oatmeal. Although, they do add raisins on Sunday."

The Deputy says, "Move along. Others are waiting for their meals."

The trustee nods and proceeds down the corridor. The Deputy pauses by the door, and Joan recognizes him as Deputy God.

"Oh, it's you. For once I'm glad to see you."

"Feeling lonely, Joan?"

"Lonely, bored, worried and more than a little pissed off. By the way, thanks for the heads-up on Ryan's latest stunt."

"I did warn you harder times were coming."

"You failed to mention the behind bars part. How am I suppose to stop Ryan's plans when I'm locked up in here?"

"You can't, but even if you were out, you still could not hinder Ryan. His time has come."

"Yeah, I get that. He's doing his 'damndest', but how long will this last? When can I get out of here?"

"Ryan's turn will last as long as it needs to. As for being in here, what did your lawyer say?"

"Mr. Murphy didn't have much time. He had to be present when they hauled my Dad away for questioning. He said the earliest bail hearing for me would be tomorrow morning, and they may have trouble raising bail."

"That's because the D.A. is pressing for the highest amount possible, and the massive media coverage may sway the court that way."

"Media coverage on Dad and me? How do we rate so much attention?"

"They were already here covering the other story. The arrest of the police chief and his daughter at the very trial of another family member was too lurid to resist."

"Oh great. Could this get any worse?"

"That unfortunate photograph of you and Friedman has resurfaced, and is being widely distributed."

Joan groans. "That's below the belt even for Ryan."

"Actually, that was Miss Figliola's handiwork. She is developing into quite a bitter enemy."

"She will have to get in line. What about my Dad? How is he holding up?"

"He knows enough not to give his interrogators any useful information. He is confused and resentful of the false accusations, but he is keeping his head about him."

"So what's your advice in this situation?"

"Add the mustard package to the franks and beans. It will perk up the flavor."

Deputy God hurries away in order to catch up with the trustee.

Joan shouts, "Gosh, what would I do without you?"

Deputy God responds with the backhand wave.

X X X X X

3-10-06/early Friday morning.

Joan is led into an interrogation room by Officer Rodriguez. Lt. Chuck Winters, sipping coffee, indicates the handcuffs should be removed. After doing so, Rodriguez takes his post by the door.

Chuck says, "I'm sorry I couldn't get to you any sooner Miss Girardi, but your father and Roy Roebuck are a couple of tough nuts to crack."

"That's because they are innocent, as am I."

"That attitude won't do you any good in here, Joan. I hope you like the accomodations at our little jail, because you may be spending a long time there."

"I've learned the phrase: Don't let the bed bugs bite, is not just an expression."

"And it will only get worse. Joan, I hate to see someone so young throw her life away because of the mistakes of two adults who should have known better. If you agree to co-operate, I can make all charges against you disappear."

Joan looks at Chuck with scorn. "Even if these stupid charges were true, I'd never turn on family. And, I'm eighteen, an adult, and my attorney should be present for this interrogation."

"He's on his way, and the interrogation hasn't begun yet. This is just an informal chat--totally off the record."

"In that case, off the record, you're a moron."

Standing by the door, Rodriguez unsuccessfully suppresses a small laugh. Chuck gives him a hard look before turning back to Joan.

"Is that any way to talk when I'm just trying to help you?"

"Then let me help you. My Dad and Roy Roebuck have the highest reputations for integrity of any cops in this state, but you arrest them based on the third version of testimony from a woman who bears my Dad a deep, personal grudge. Sounds moronic to me."

"If Marie's testimony was the only evidence, then I might agree, but watch this videotape..."

Chuck pushes PLAY on the nearby VCR, and the black and white image of Roy and Will appears. At the moment Roy disappears from the screen, Chuck freezes the tape.

"There! The stolen money was stored in an evidence box exactly where Roebuck steps out of view."

"What does that prove? You can't see the theft of the money. Anyone, at any time, might have taken it."

"Only someone who knew they were standing in a gap in the security coverage would have dared it. Roebuck and your father are among only a handful of people who had that knowledge."

"That's still not admissible in court. 'Coulda' is not evidence."

"The missing twenty grand was found in a flower box on the balcony of Roebuck's apartment. Marie Brown turned in the other half in an envelope that had your fingerprints on it, and the accompaning note was in your father's handwriting on his stationary."

Joan sighs and begins ticking off points on her fingers. "One, the defense will say the money at Roebuck's was planted. Two, your own videotape shows my Dad didn't steal that money. Three, Marie Brown got me to touch an envelope of hers, so what? What connects me to the contents? And Four, who would believe anyone would send a note involving a criminal conspiracy on his personalized stationary? Anyone could have got their hands on a sheet of that, and as for the handwriting, obviously forged. You've got less than nothing."

Chuck wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. He is clearly uncomfortable about how this is going.

"We have Marie brown's sworn testimony as to the bribe."

"Which version? In one she says she conspired to get revenge on my Dad. She also admitted forging my brother's signature in the log book. Now there's another forgery, of my Dad's handwriting, which I'm sure will be easy to prove. Will any jury believe her with conflicting testimony and dubious evidence, not to mention her obvious motive for revenge? My Dad cost her a cushy job and put a relative of hers behind bars. Her credibility is nearly zero."

There is a rap on the door, and Rodriguez takes a message from another officer. He reports, "Tom Murphy is here and threatening dire consequences if he doesn't get to see his client ASAP."

Chuck sighs. "Fine, send her to him. We're not going to get anythiong from this smart-ass. Just remember Miss Girardi, you had your chance to co-operate."

Chuck turns his back as Rodriguez escorts a smiling Joan from the room.

X X X X X

Later that morning in municipal court, Will and Joan greet and hug each other as they wait their turn in the busy courtroom. Judge Donald Baker presides...

"Next on the docket is William Girardi, charged with conspiracy to obstruct justice, and as an accomplice to grand theft. I'm surprised to see you here, Chief Girardi."

"Not as surprised as I am, your honor."

"These have become strange times in Arcadia. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty, your honor."

D.A. Drake stands and says, "Your honor, in light of the seriousness of these crimes, and that the accused is a high ranking police officer, the people request a high bail as an object lesson to all others who might consider betraying the public trust."

Tom Murphy retorts, "Your honor, the very fact that my client is the chief of police, and a man with a sterling reputation for honesty and dedication, is more than enough reason to have only a token amount for bail."

Judge Baker smiles. "Even though the defendant is known for smashing judge's cars into poles, I deem him a very low flight risk. Bail is set at ten thousand dollars."

The pencil Melanie Drake is holding snaps in her hand. Tom Murphy smiles and says, "Thank you, your honor."

Will and Marcus Brodie proceed to the clerk of the court to pay the bail amount. Judge Baker looks at the next name on his list...

"Next, we have Joan Girardi charged as an accessory to conspiracy to obstruct justice. Seems we have a family affair. How do you plead young lady?"

"Not guilty, your honor."

"Bail recommendation, Ms Drake?"

Drake shrugs indifferently. "A thousand dollars, your honor."

"Mr. Murphy?"

"Fully acceptable, your honor."

"Pay the clerk of the court."

Someone taps Joan on the shoulder. She turns and recognizes brother and sister, Tovya Friedman and Gert Coleman. Joan embraces the elderly couple.

"Mr. Friedman, Mrs. Coleman, it's so good to see you again."

Gert says, "We heard on the news about your troubles."

Tovya adds, "And we wanted the honor of posting your bail."

"I don't know how much of an honor it is."

Tovya says, "We consider it so, if you will allow it?"

"Hey, go for it, and thank you."

Tovya hands Gert his share of the bail money and she goes to the clerk of the court. Tovya, leaning heavily on his cane, smiles benignly at Joan.

"I heard your relationship with my great-grandson hit a snag."

"Yes, Fried... I mean, Theodore and I decided we didn't work as a couple."

Tovya chuckles. "Not according to the photo I saw in the Free Press."

Joan blushes, but quickly recovers her composure. "There is more to a rrelationship than physical attraction. We had some fundamental differences over...religion."

"I thought in this day and age such differences no longer mattered. I suppose our differences in how to approach God will always divide us. That's so sad, especially since Theodore's parents thought you were good for him. Apparently he has matured a lot this year due to your influence."

Joan laughs. "Or in spite of it. I am sorry things ended between us, but Theodore and I have pledged to remain good friends."

Tovya gives an ironic chuckle. "Good luck with that. My sister is signaling you. I think there are forms you must sign."

"Thank you again, Mr. Friedman."

As Joan walks away, old man Friedman smiles. Softly he remarks, "'Remain friends'. Ah, to be that young and naive."

X X X X X

A few minutes later, Will and Joan, arm-in-arm, exit the courtroom into the corridor outside. Nearby, Police Commissoner Bromfield awaits them.

Will remarks, "I always said I wanted us to do more fun family activities. Who knew being arrested together was one of them?"

"Maybe we can get matching mug shots for the den wall? But seriously, does this finally convince you about Ryan?"

"The few lingering doubts I may have had are now gone. I saw him grinning at us like the Cheshire Cat. To think, I once thought that man was a friend."

"If Ryan had ever been truly open to having a great friend like you Dad, he might not have ended up the monster he is."

"I just wish I had believed you the first time you warned me about him. I guess I couldn't fathom a reason for such behavior. Honestly, I still can't beyond the obvious--he's insane."

"I prefer the term 'evil'. You can be cured of insanity."

"I'll even concede the terminology. And look, the police commissioner is waiting for us. No doubt to give me his vote of confidence."

"No doubt."

Commissioner Bromfield reluctantly apporaches them, his hands in his coat pockets as a sign he doesn't want to shake hands.

"Hello Will. Miss Girardi, it's been a long time."

"Not since you were a guest in our home at my Dad's birthday party."

"Er yes, I remember the occasion."

Will says, "Commissioner, let's dispose of the pleasantries. Obviously you have bad news for me, so give it to me straight."

"I'm going to need your badge, Will."

Will sighs. "And I just got it back."

"I also have to inform you that at the insistence of the citizen review board, with my agreement, you are immediately suspended without pay."

"Without pay? That's unheard of. Last time I checked, I was innocent until proven guilty. Do you realize the financial burden this will put on my family?"

"I'm sorry Will, but the watchdog board insisted."

"You mean Ryan Hunter."

"To put a name to it, yes. As your former biggest supporter, Mr. Hunter has taken a personal affront at what he sees as your betrayal of his trust. The board backed him up unanimously."

"The board is filled with Ryan's toadies and lapdogs."

Bromfield bristles, "Do I fit into that grouping?"

"No, but if Ryan didn't control our funding through the city council, I suspect you would have at least put up a token struggle."

"That will do, Girardi. In your absence, Captain Hoytt will be acting police chief, and I expect you to keep your distance from all police business."

Clearly angry, the Commissioner turns and strides rapidly away.

Joan jokes, "Did I ever tell you how much I admire the way you constantly charm people?"

Will laughs. "No, and I understand why. This just shows I always made a better street cop than a police chief. You don't have to always say just the right thing on the streets."

"How badly will this hurt us, money-wise?"

"Badly. My salary was two-thirds of our household income, and our legal expenses will be enormous."

"Kevin could probably kick in. He's making good money these days, and I'm sure Grandpa would help."

"Your grandfather is semi-retired, and he has already paid my bail. Kevin is making more money now, but due to his condition, his expenses are high. I'm sorry to say, we are going to be neck deep in debt very soon."

"That sounds bad. Even worse, I doubt Ryan is done with us yet. Brace yourself for more to come."

"So, apparently you've inherited my ability to always say just the right thing."

"A chip off the old block."

Again arm-in-arm, Joan and Will march to the exit and brace themselves for the barrage of reporter's questions awaiting them.

X X X X X

Meanwhile, a smiling Ryan is at his desk enjoying the morning edition of the Herald. The headline reads: POLICE CHIEF ARRESTED. The line below it reads: DAUGHTER AN ACCOMPLICE. Two unflattering photos of Will and Joan are below the headlines. Ryan gleefully chuckles. His secretary, Mrs. Burke, buzzes him on the intercom...

"Sorry to interrupt sir, but your ten o'clock is here."

"Adam Rove? Send him right in."

Ryan rises and crosses to the small bar at the side of the room. While whistling a jaunty Mozart tune, Ryan pours himself a glass of champagne. Adam enters and Ryan waves him over to the couch while he takes a sip of the champagne.

Adam remarks, "You seem to be in a good mood today, Ryan."

"You've got to enjoy the good days, my boy. There's just not enough of them."

"If you say so, but this week didn't have many good days. The massacre on Sunday, followed by Joan and Chief Girardi being arrested yesterday..."

"All a matter of perspective. You know, I got your supervisor's quarterly evaluation, and she thinks you are wonderful. She raves about your talent and dedication to the job. You've been recommended for a promotion--a full time post with a big bump in pay."

"That sounds good, and I'm grateful, but I'm starting Berekley in the fall."

"Just as well, since I'm firing you."

"Oh...okay. Are we finally going to be honest with each other?"

"Why not? I'll go first. I saved your life. I gave you a good job when you were in desperate need. What's my reward? You help Joan Girardi spy on me."

Adam retorts, "You seduced Glynis, and then sent her into my bed to spy on me and the rest of the sub-defectives."

Ryan chuckles. "'Sub-defectives'. I at least admire your emotional honesty. If you had shown me the tiniest shred of gratitude or loyalty, I would have left you out of this."

"Joan was right about you. You're evil, and my only regret is that I wasn't able to do more to bring you down."

"You're only regret? Let's see if I can up that score." (Ryan crosses to his desk and stabs the intercom button.) "Now, Mrs. Burke."

Into the room comes two uniformed men--one is a security guard, and the other is a policeman.

"Adam, you know Mr. Johnson, our head of security, and this is Officer Rodriguez."

Johnson says, "We received a report of a few hundred dollars worth of art supplies having gone missing. After doing a locker search, we found the missing supplies in your locker, Adam."

"What? That's insane. I would never do that."

Rodriguez states, "That's what they all say. I witnessed the search, kid. They've got you cold. But hey, it's only a class 'A' misdemeanor. You'll be out in six months."

"Six months! But...but I start Berekley in the September."

Ryan laughs. "I wouldn't count on it, Adam. By the time you get bailed out, you should find several e-mails awaiting you. Every scholarship offer you received will be withdrawn. After all, they have their reputations to protect."

Officer Rodriguez pulls out handcuffs and approaches Adam. Ryan returns to his desk, once again whistling.

"Mrs. Burke, has Kevin Girardi arrived yet?"

"No sir. It's still a few minutes until his appointment."

"Send him right in when he shows up."

Ryan rereads the headlines as Rodriguez and Johnson escort a handcuffed Adam away...

A voice says, "Enjoying yourself, Ryan?"

Ryan glances up and sees Cute Boy God emerging from the private elevator. Ryan gives him a smug smile.

"Now here's a blast from the past. I haven't seen this version since my own high school days. Come to plead for mercy for the Girardis?"

"I'm here to appeal to your reason, since it seems to be all you have left."

"You know my terms. Admit you are wrong. Confess your fallibility, and I'm still willing to call all of this off, even at this late date."

"You are a limited, mortal man who is misguided enough to believe he can best an unlimited, immortal God. How can you be so fooloish?"

"And yet, here you are appealing to a mere man instead of acting because you have boxed yourself in by your own rules. Come on, admit it. You would like to send a lightening bolt into me right now, wouldn't you?"

"After all these years, you still don't know me."

"Then maybe it was a MISTAKE to ever speak to me!"

"I speak to everyone. You were just willing to listen, and to act on what I said."

"That's the difference between us. I can admit my mistake. I never should have trusted you, and the time is coming when Joan Girardi will say the same thing."

Cute Boy God returns to the elevator, and the doors open on their own to receive him. "Don't be so sure. I had mercy on you Ryan, but I have faith in Joan."

Just as the elevator doors close, Kevin rolls into Ryan's office...

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Hunter?"

"Oh yes, Kevin. Thanks for coming. You're fired. Clean out your desk."

"Fired? But why?"

"I normally oversee every edition of the Herald, except for the Sunday edition, which I trust to my staff. You used our senior copy editor, an ex-girlfriend of yours, to publish a piece that was clearly meant to sway potential jurors in your brother's trial. That is an unacceptable breach of journalistic ethics."

"But the article was completely factual."

"Not the point. Your motivation and personal involvement taints the reputation of this newspaper. You have to go, and so does Ms Askew."

"Okay, me I understand, but how can you do this to Rebecca? After all, you had a relationship with her last summer."

Ryan shrugs. "With her experience, she should have known better. Too bad she let her feelings sway her judgement. Besides, this lets me spread the pain even wider."

Kevin stares at Ryan in astonishment. For the first time he notices a cruelty in Ryan's eyes that he has never seen before. Instinctively, Kevin backs away.

"My God, Joan was right about you all along!"

"That's why you never would have been successful in this business, Kevin. You have no instinct for the hidden truth."

Kevin wheels himself to the door and quickly exits with the sound of Ryan's laughter in his ears...

X X X X X

That night in the Girardi home, the five Girardis and Marcus enter the living room after dinner. They are a somber and subdued group. No one is speaking as each one is lost in his own thoughts. The sound of the doorbell is startling to all.

Will calls out, "I'll get it. If it's another one of those damn reporters..."

Kevin says, "Keep your cool, Dad. Remember, until a few hours ago, I was amongst their numbers."

"I'll be as kind as I can as I bounce their butts down the sidewalk."

Will opens the door and is surprised to find Toni and Steven Chadwick.

"Toni, this is a pleasant surprise. And Mr. Chadwick, welcome. Please come in."

Steven replies, "Thanks Chief, and please call me Steven."

"Gladly, and I'm 'Will'. Hey everyone, look who stopped by. Most of you know Lt. Toni Chadwick, and this is her new husband, Steven Chadwick."

Joan comments, "Oh look, our school principal, right here in our living room."

Steven chuckles. "Relax Miss Girardi, this is primarily a social call."

Will says, "Toni, Steven I think you've met everyone except for this handsome fellow, my son Kevin. And this distinguished looking gentleman is my esteemed father-in-law, Marcus Brodie."

Helloes and handshakes are exchanged, refreshments are offered and declined, and eventually everyone settles back for conversation...

Toni says, "Will, the reason I'm here is because the members of the force wanted me to express their support. We know these charges are bogus, and everyone is outraged at the Commissoner suspending you without pay."

"Well, it's good to hear that the rank and file haven't lost confidemce in me. I'm appreciative you were willing to to risk being 'tainted' by coming to see me."

"Nothing could have kept me away, especially since I'm here on a special mission. We realize what a financial burden this is going to be, so the people at the station had a whiparound. It's only a thousand dollars, but next week we will be better organized, and every cop in town will have a chance to kick in."

Will accepts a thick envelope stuffed with cash. Misty-eyed, he struggles to control his emotions. "Thank you, Toni. You have no idea what this means to me."

Steven says, "That was the good news. Unfortunately, we also have bad news. helen, I'm sorry to say, there's an ugly rumor circulating about you through the whole school system. i don't know how it started, but people are saying you used talented students to complete privately commissioned portraits in exchange for special favors and higher grades."

The entire family bristles in indignation, but Helen holds up her hand to cease their protests. "That explains the phone calls I've been getting the last two days. The current portrait I'm doing, and two future projects have ben canceled. No one would say why."

Kevin notes, "When security was escorting me out of the Herald today, I saw your portrait of Ryan had been removed."

Luke comments, "Now we know where the rumor started."

Will sighs. "At five thousand dollars each, those lost commissons are another blow to our finances."

Helen responds, "I'm sorry everyone, I should have told you about this sooner, but I figured we'd already had enough bad news."

Steven says, "I'm afraid there's more. The school board has demanded a formal investigation."

Helen asks, "Oh God, are you here to suspend me?"

"Not at all. There was talk that someone on the school board wanted that, but there are union rules that have to be observed. I've already started the investigation--speaking to current and former students, and everybody has only the highest regard for you."

"At least that's good to hear."

Joan says, "Don't put it beyond Ryan to bribe someone to bad-mouth you, Mom."

Steven asks, "Why does Ryan Hunter have it in for you people?"

Joan mutters, "That's kind of a long story."

"Fine, I won't pry. However, I do have all the class assignments you and Luke have missed."

Luke responds, "Thank you, sir. This will help relieve the boredom."

Joan counters, "Oh joy. A night in jail and homework. Can life get any better than this?"

Steven adds, "Coach Keating wanted you reminded of tomorrow's game. She expects you there, no excuses."

Joan simply groans.

X X X X X

3-11-06/Saturday afternoon.

At the Arcadia High athletic field, most of the Eagle players are on the field, but Joan and Julia Fellowes are on the bench with Coach Keating.

Keating asks, "Howe's the ankle, Miss Fellowes?"

"Still painful, Coach. I can't believe I twisted it the last play of the first half."

"It happens. Keep the icepack on it. Girardi, this is your moment. We have a one to nothing lead. Make sure the Bulldogs don't score."

"I'll do my best, Coach."

Joan rushes out and takes her position as goalie. Moments later, the game resumes. At first, Joan is excited by being back in a soccer game for the first time in years, and her first time as goalie. As the action begins, the Eagles take control of the ball and begin driving towards the goal of the South High Bulldogs. One of the Arcadia players shoots, but it is easily blocked by the opposing goalie. The Bulldogs begin a run down field, and Joan braces herself for some action, but the Eagles steal. As the minutes tick by, there is lots of activity around mid-field--a series of passes and steals, but no activity at either goal. Joan begins to realize, as goalie, her job can get pretty dull. Bored, her mind begins to wander. She notices what a clear, crisp beautiful day it is. The crowd is surprisingly large for an unofficial, fun spring league game. Joan notices her entire family a short way up the bleachers. Even Kevin is there, having been carried up by Will and Luke. Is it her imagination, or did Kevin's leg just twitch?

Keating shouts, "Girardi! Get your head in the game!"

Joan looks down field, and sure enough, the Bulldogs are making a drive for her goal. Finally, some action! Just as one of the Bulldog players is about to take a shot, Susan Radovitch does a quick sweep around and steals the ball. Once again the play heads away from Joan. She sighs and begins to understand why most Americans consider soccer the dullest sport ever invented. The game continues until it is winding down to the last few minutes. Joan sees one of the Bulldog players begin a determined drive. The Arcadia players are exhausted, and the South High girl is able to kick her way through all defenders. Joan carefully watches her opponent's eyes... There, she's picked her target off to Joan's left... The other girl kicks, and Joan leaps with perfect timing. Joan catches the ball, hits the ground, rolls a couple of times and then springs to her feet--expecting cheers from the crowd. But there is only silence.

"Well, that's rude..."

But everything has changed. Joan realizes she is now alone. The fans, the players, the officials--everone is gone. The sky is no longer blue, but instead glows orange from distant flames. The air is filled with black smoke, and the green grass is covered in a filthy carpet of grey ashes. Everywhere, there is the noxious stench of sulfur and rotting flesh...

"Is...is this hell?"

Up in the stands, Joan's parents watch with concern.

Will asks, "Why is she just standing there?"

Helen replies, "She looks the way I do when I have a vision."

"Not your so-called visions again."

"Yes again, and look, she's snapping out of it."

As suddenly as it came, the vision is gone. Joan realizes the game has just ended, and her joyous team is celebrating all about her. Ignoring all the hugs and slaps on the back, Joan desperately searches the stands. There, she easily spots Goth Kid God. He stands, shakes his head sadly, and slowly walks away. Joan waits for the 'God-wave', but it never comes. While all those around her are laughing and cheering, Joan begins to cry...

THE END. PLEASE REVIEW.

(Only three more episodes to go!)